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OLIVIA;
TEE DOCTOR'S TWO 10VE3.
BY THE AUTHOR 0?
“ 1-2 Second Mrs. Tillotson “Never
Forgotten,” Etc., Etc.
CFIA PTE It XXIX.
A B MIGHT BECINM.M;.
the next day, wliK-h was wet and
r indy, Lnt the day following did Captu.n
Carey take mo over to Sark. I had had
time to talk over all my plans for the future
with my mother, and I Lore with me many
messages from her to the girl I was abont
to ask to become mv wife.
Coxcomb as I was, there was no doubt in
my mind that I conld win Olivia.
To explain my coxcombry is not a very
easy task. Ido not suppose I had a much
higher sense of my own merits train su ,- h
as is common to man. I admit I was
neither shy nor nervous on the one hand,
but on the other I was not blatantly self
conceited. It is jiossible tLat my course
through life hitherto —fiist as an only son
adored by his mother, and secondly as an
exceedingly eligible parti in a circle where
there were very few young men of my rank
and family, and where there were twenty or
more marriageable women to one unmarried
man—had a great deal to do with my feel
ing of security with regard to th:s un
known, poor, and friendless stranger. But
added to this there was Olivia’s own frank,
unconcealed pleasure in seeing mo when
ov. r I had had a chance of visiting her,
and the freedom with which she had always
conversed with me upon any topic except
that of her own mysterious position. I was
sure I had made a favorable impression
upon her. In fact, w hen I had been talk
ing with her I had given utterance to
brighter and clearer thoughts than I had
ever been conscious of before. A word
from her, a simple question, seemed to
touch tho.spring of some hidden treasure
of my brain, and I had surprised myself
by w hat I had been enabled to say to her.
It was this, probably, more than her beauty,
which had drawn me to her and made me
liapny in her companionship. No, I had
never shown myself contemptible, but
quite the reverse, in her presence. No
doubt or misgiving assailed me as the yacht
carried us out of St. Sampson’s Harbor.
Swiftly we ran across, with a soft wind
drifting over the sea and playing upon our
faces, aud a long furrow lying in the wake
of our boat. It was almost low tide when
wo reached the island—tho best time for
seeing the cliffs. They were standing well
out of the water, scarred and chiseled with
strange devices, aud glowing in the August
sulight with the tints of the most gorgeous
coloring, while their feet, swathed with
brown seaweed, were glistening with tho
dashing waves. I had seen nothing like
them since I had been there last, and tho
view of these wild, rugged crags, with their
regal robes of amber and gold and silver,
almost oppressed me with delight. If I
could but see Olivia on this summit!
Tho currents and tho wind had been in
favor of our running through the channel
between Hark and Jethou, and so landing at
tho Crenx Harbor, on the opposite coast of
the island to the Havre Goeselin.
I crossed in headlong haste, for I was
afraid of meeting with Julia’s friends, or
some of my own acquaintances who were
spending the summer months there. I
found Tardif’s house completely deserted.
The only sign of life was a family of hens
clucking about the fold.
Tho door was not fastened, and I enter
ed, but there was nobody there. I stood in
tho middle of the kitchen and called, but
there was no answer. Olivia’s door was
ajar, and I pushed it a little more open.
There lay hooks 1 had lent her on the table,
aud her velvet slippers were on the floor,
as if they had only just been taken off.
Very worn and brown were the little slip
pers, but thoy reassured me she had beeu
wearing them a short time ago.
1 returned through tho fold and mounted
the bank that sheltered the house, to see
if I could discover any trace of her, or
Tardif, or his mother. All the place
seemed left to itself. Tardif’s sheep were
browsing along the cliffs, and his cows were
tethered here and there, but nobody ap
peared to be tending them. At last I
caught sight of a head rising from behind
a crag, the rough shock head of a boy, and
I shouted to him, making a trumpet with
my hands.
"Where is neighbor Tardif?” called.
“Down below there!'’ ho shouted back
again, pointing downward to the Havre
Gosselin. I did not wait for any further
information, but darted off down the long,
•stoop gulloy to the little strand, where the
pebbles w§re being lapped lazily bv the
ripple of the lowering tide. Tardifs* boat
was within a stone's-throw, and I saw
Olivia sitting in the stem of it. I shouted
again with a vehemence which made them
both start.
“Come back, Tardif,” I cried, “and take
me with yon!”
The boat was too far off for me to see
bow my sudden appearance affected Olivia.
Did she turn white or red at the sound of
my voice? By the time it neared the shore,
and I plunged in knee-deep to meet it, her
face was bright with smiles, and her hands
were stretched out to help me over the
boat’s side.
If Tardif had not been there I should
have kissed them both. As it was, I tucked
up my wet legs out of reach of her dress,
and took an oar. unable to utter a word of
the gladuess I felt.
I recovered myself in a few seconds, and
touched her baud, and grasped Tardif’s
with almost as mu. h force as he gripped
mine.
“Where are you going to?” I asked, ad- !
dressing neither of them in particular.
"1 ardif was going to row me past the en
trance to the Gouliot Caves. answered
Olivia, "but wo will put it off now. We
ill return to the shore, anil hear all your
adventures, Dr. Martin. You come upou
ns like a phantom, and take an oar’ in
ghostly silence. Are you reallv, truly
’there?
“l am no phantom." I said, touching her
hand again. “Xo. we will not go bach to
the shore. Tardif shall row" us to the
caves, and I will take you into them and
then we two will return along the cliffs
Would you like ihit, mam'zelle?'’
'\erymnch. sh-> answered, the smile
still p aying about h r face. It was brown
and freckled with t-xposnro to the sun, but
so full of health and life as to be doubly
beautiful io me, who saw so many wan and
sickly faces. There was a bloom and fresh
ness about her, telling of pure air. and
peaceful hours and days spent in the sun
shine. I was seated on the bench before
lardif. with my back to him, and Olivia
in front of me—she, and the gorgeous
diffs. and the r: istening sea. and the cloud
loss sky os rln ii. No, there is no lan
guage on e . th that could paint the rapture
of that moment
“Doctor, ' said Tardifs deep, grave voice
behind me, “your mother, is she better?”
It was like the sharp prick of a] oniird,
which presently yon knew must pierce
your heart.
The one moment of rapture hid fled.
The paradise mat had been about me for an
instant, with no hint of pain, faded out of
my sight. But Olivia remained, and her
face grew s.id. and her voice low and sor
rowful. as she leaned forward to speak tc
me.
“I have been so grieved for yon.” she
said. “Your mother came to see me once
and promised to be my friend Is it true?
Is she so very ill?"
"Quite true, ' I answered in a choking
■voice.
We s.iij no more for some minutes, and
the s, ash oi the oa;s in the watei wis the
only sound Olivia s air eontiuned sad,
and her eyes were downcast, as if she
shrank from looking me in the face*
“Pardon ne. Doctor," said Tardif, In out
own dial ct, which Olivia could not under
stand. "I hive made yon sorry when you
wore having a iittle gladness. Is youi
I mother very ill:”
" j Imre is no hope, Tardif,” I answered,
1 looking round at his honest and handsome
fac\ full of concern for me.
Mar I speak to you as an old friend':”
he asked. “Yon love mim'zelle, and you
i a;e come to tell her so':”
•What makes you think that?” I said.
‘I see it in your face,” ho answered,
towering his voice, though he knew Olivia
could not t 11 what we were “Youi
j marriage vi.h mademoiselle your cousin
' was broken off—why? Do you suppose I
do not guess? 1 knew it from the first
week you stayed with us. Nobody could
see mam'zelle.as we see her, without loving
her.”
The Sark folks say you are in love with
her yourself. Tardif,” I said, almost against
my will, and certainly without any intention
beforehand of giving expression to such a
! rumor.
His lips contracted and his face sadden
ed, but he met my eyes frankly.
“It is true,” he answered; “but what
then? If it had only pleased God to make
me like you, or that she should be of my
class, I would have done my utmost to win
her, but that is impossible! Bee, I am
nothing else than a servant in her eyes. I
do not know how to be anything else, and I
rim content. She is as far above my reach
is one of the white clouds up yonder. To
think of myself as anything but her serv
ant would be irreligious.”
“You are a good fellow, Tardif,” I ex
claimed.
“God is the judge of that," lie said, with
a sigh. “Mam’zelle thinks of me only a3
her servant. ‘My good Tardif, do this, or
do that.’ I like it. I do not know any hap
pier moment than when I hold her little
boots in my hand and brush them. You
see she is as helpless and tender as my lit
tle wife was; but she is very much higher
than my poor little wife. Yes, I love her
: as I love the blue sky, and the white
; clouds, and the stars shining in the night.
But it will be quite different between her
! and you,”
“I hope so,” I thought to myself.
"Y’ou do not feel like a servant,” he eon
; tinned, his oars dipping a little too deeply,
and setting the boat a-rocking. “By-and
by, when you are married, she will look
up to you and obey you. Ido not under
stand altogether why the good God has
made this difference between us two; but
I see it and feel it. It would be fitting for
you to be her husband; it would be a shame
to her to become nry wife.”
“Are you grieved about it, Tardif?” I
i asked.
' "No, no,” he answered; “we have always
been good friends, you and I, Doctor. No,
you shall marry her, and I will be happy.
I will come to visit you sometimes, and
she will call me her good Tardif. That is
enough for me.”
hat are you talking about?” asked
Olivia. Jt was impossible to tell her, or to
continue the conversation. Moreover, the
narrow channel between Breckhou and
Hark is so strong in its current that it re
quired both caution and skill to steer the
boat amid the needle-liko points of the
rocks. At last we gained one of the en
trances to the cave, but we could not pull
the boat quite up to the strand. A fow
paces of shallow water, clear as glass, with
pebbles sparkling like gems Beneath it, lay
between us and the caves.
“Tardif,” I said, “you need not wait for
us. We will return by the cliffs ”
“You know the caves as well as I do?” he
replied, though in a doubtful tone.
“Are you as strong as Tardif?” she asked,
lingering, and hesitating beforo she would
trust herself to me.
“Almost, if not altogether,” I an
swered, gayly. “I’m strong enough to un
dertake to carry you without wetting the
soles of your feet. Come, it is not more
than half a dozen yards.”
Hhe was standing on the bench I had
just left, looking down at mo with the same
vivid flush upon her cheeks and forehead,
aud with an uneasy expression in her eyes.
Before she could speak again I put my arms
round her and lifted her down.
“Yon are quite as light as a feather,” I
said, laughing, as I carried her to the strip
of moist and humid strand under the arch
way in the rocks. As I put her down I
looked back to Tardif, and saw' him re
garding us with grave and sorrowful eyos.
“Adieu!” he cried; “1 am going to look
after my lobster-pots. God bless you both!”
He spoke the last words heartily, and we
stood w'atching him as long as he was in
sight. Then we went on into the caves.
CHAPTER XXX.
the gouliot caves.
Olivia was very silent.
The coast of Sark shows soma of the
most fantastic workmanship of the sea, but
the Gouliot Caves are its wildest and mad
dest freaks. A strong, swift current sets
in from the southwest, and, being lashed
into fury by the lightest southwest wind, it
has hewn out of the rock a series of cells,
and grottoes, and alcoves, some of them
running far inland, iu long, vaulted pas
sages and corridors, with now and then a
shaft or funnel in the rocky roof, through
which the light streams down into recesses
far from the low porches opening from the
sea. Here and there a crooked, twisted
tunnel forms a skylight overhead, aud the
blue heavens look down through it like a
far-off eye. You cannot number the cav
erns and niches. Everywhere the sea has
bored alloys and galleries, or hewn out
solemn aisles, with arches intersocfiug each
other, and running off into capacious fur
rows and moldings. There are innumer
able rifts, and channels, and crescents,
aud cupolas, half-finished or only hinted
at. There are chambers of every height
and shape, leading into one another by ii
regular portals, but all rough and rude, as
though there might have been an original
plan, from which, while the general ar
rangement is kept, every separate stroke
perversely diverged.
But another, and not a secondary, curi
osity of this ocean labyrinth is that it is
the habitat of a multitude of marine
creatures not to be seen at home in many
other places. Except twice n month, at the
neap tides, the lower chambers are filled
with the sea, and here live and flourish
thousands upon thousands of those tnol
lusks and zoophytes, which can exist only
in its salt waters. The sides of the caves,
as far as ihe highest tides swept, were
studded with crimson, and purple, and
amber mollusca. glistening like jewels in
the light pouring down upon them from
the eyelet openings overhead. Xot the
space of a finger-tip was clear. Above
them in the clefts of the rock hung fringes
of delicate ferns of the most vivid green,
while here and (here were nooks and
crevices of profound darkness, black with
perpetual, unbroken shadow.
I had known the caves well when I was a
boy, but it was many years since I had been
there. Now I was a one in them with
Olivia, no other hum m being ’n sight or
sound of us. I had scarcely eyes for any
sight but that of her face, which had grown
shy and downcast, and was generally
turned away from me. She would be
frighten and, I thought, if Is oke to her in
that ion some place. I would wait till wo
were on the cliff's, iu the open light of day.
Sh' left my side for one moment while
1 was poking under a stone for a young
pieuvre, which had darkened the li t o
pool of water round it with its inky fluid.
I heard her utter an exclamation of and light,
and I gave up my pursuit instantly to learn
what was giving her pleasare. She was
stooping down to look beneath a low arch,
not more than two feet high, and I knell
down beside her. Beyond lay a straight,
narrow channel of transparent water, blue
from a faint r :u. t. and light, with smooth
sculptured walls of rock, clear from mol
lusca. rising on each side of it. Level lines
of nurnie waves rippled monotonously upon
is, as if it was stirred by some soft wind
which we could not feet You could have
peopled it with tiuy boats flitting across it.
or skimming lightly down it. Teats shone
in Olivia's eyes.
“It reminds me so of a ctnal in Venice,"
she said, in a tremulous voice.
“Do you know \enice?” I asked; and the
recollection of her portrait taken in F.lor
ence came to my mind. Well, by-and-bv
I should have a right to hear about all hex
wanderings.
“Oh, yes!” she answered; “I spent
three months there once, and th s place is
like it.”
“Was it a happy time?” I inquired, jeal
ous of those tears.
“It war a hateful time,” she said, vehe
mently. Don’t let us talk of it. I hate tc
remember it. Why cannot we forget
things, Doctor Martin? You, who are so
clever, can tell me that ”
"That is simple enough,” I said, smiling.
“Every circumstance of our life makes a
change in (he substance of the brain, and
while that r> mains sound and in vigor we
cannot forget. To-day is being written on
our brain now. Y'ou will have to remem
ber this, Olivia.”
“I know I shall remember it,” she an
swered. in a low tone.
“You have traveled a great deal, then,” I
pursued, wishing her to talk about herself,
for I con'd scarcely trust my resolution to
wait till we were out of the caves. “I love
you with all my heart aud soul,” was on my
tongue’s end.
“We traveled nearly all over Europe,”
she replied.
I wondered whom slie meant by “we.”
She had never used the plural pronoun
before, and I thought of that odious woman
in Guernsey—an unpleasant recollection.
We had wandered back to the opening
where Tardif had left us. The rapid cur
rent between us and Breckhou was runuing
in swift eddies, which showed the more
plainly because the day was calm, and the
open sea smooth. Olivia stood near me;
but a sort of chilly diffidence had crept
over me, and I could not have ventured to
press too closely to her, or to touch her
with my hand.
“How have you been content to live here?”
I asked.
“This year in Sark has saved me,” she
answered, softly.
“What has it saved you from?” I in
quired, with intense eagerness. She turned
her face full upon me, with a world of re
proach in her gray eyes.
“Doctor Martin,” she said, “why will you
persist in asking me about my former life?
Tardif never does. He never implies by a
word or look that he wishes to know more
than I choose to tell. I cannot tell you any
thing about it. ”
I felt uncomfortably that she was draw
ing a comparison unfavorable to me be
tween Tardif and myself—the gentleman,
who could not conquer or conceal his de
siro to fathom a mystery, and the fisher
man, who acted as if there were no mys
tery at all. Yet Olivia appeared more
grieved thorn pffended; ayd when she knew
how Ilovea her she Would ailiait that my
curiosity was natural, She should knovf.
too, that I was willing to take her as she
was, with all tho secrets of her former life
kept from me. Some day I would make
her own I was as generous as Tardif.
Just then my ear caught, for the first
time, a low boom-boom, which had prob
ably been sounding through the caves for
some minutes.
“Good heavens!” I ejaculated.
Yet a moment’s thought convinced me
that, though there might be a little risk,
there was no paralyzing danger. I had for
gotten the narrowness of the gully through
which alone we could gain the cliffs. From
the open span of beach where we were now
standing there was no chance of leaving
the caves except as we had come to them,
by a boat; for on each side of them a crag
ran like a spur into the water. The com
paratively open space permitted the tide to
lap in quietly, and steal imperceptibly high
er upon its pebbles, But the low boom I
heard was tho sea rushing in through the
throat of the narrow outlet through* which
lay our only means of escape. There was
not a moment to lose. Without a word I
snatched up Olivia in my arms and ran
back into the caves, making as rapidly as
I could for the long, straight passage.
“Thank God!” I cried. “How I love
you. Olivia!”
I had told her only a few minutes before
that the brain is iueffaceably stamped with
the impress of every event in our lives.
But bow much more deeply do some events
burn themselves there than others! I see
it all now—more clearly, it seems to me,
than my eyes saw it then. There is the
huge, high entrance to the outer cave3
where we are standrng, with a massive lin
tel of rocks overhead, all black but for a
few purple and gray tints scattered across
the blackness. Behind its the sea is glis
tening, and prismatic colors play upon the
cl ifis. Shadows fall from rocks we cannot
see, Olivia stands before me, pale and ter
rified, the water running from her heavy
dross, which C-Lugs about her slondcr fig
ure. bhy ghritGs ;way from me a pace ox
ttyo, -
CUAPTER XXXb
A ctoosnr ENDING.
“Hush!” she cries, in a tone of mingled
pain and dread; “hush!”
There was something so positive, so pro
hibitory in her voice aud gesture that my
heart contracted, and a sudden chill of de
spoudeney ran through me. But I could
not be silent now. It was impossible for
me to ho!d my peace, even at her bidding.
Vby do you say hush?” I asked, per
emptorily. “I love you, Olivia. Is there
any reason why I should not love you?”
les,” she said, very slowly and with
quivering lips. “I was married four years
ago. and my husband is still living!”
Olivia s answer struck me like an electric
shock'. For some moments I was simply
stunned, and knew neither what she hail
said nor where we were.
I suppose half a minute had elapsed be
fore I fairly received the meaning of her
words into my bewildered brain. It
seemed as if they weie thundering in my
ears, though she had uttered them in a low,
frightened voice. I scarcely understood
them when I looked up and saw her lean
lug ag..uist the rock, with her hands v
ing her face.
“Olivia! I cried, stretching out my arms
toward her, as though she would flutter
back to them and lay her head where it had
been resting upon my shoulder, with her
face against my neck. *
But she diil _ not see my gesture, and
the next moment I knew that she could
never let me hold her in my arms again.
I dared not even take one step nearer to her.
“Olivia,” I said again, after another min
ute or two of troubled silence, with no
sound but the thunders of the sea rever
berating through the perilous strait where
we had almost confronted death together—
“ Olivia, is it true?”
She bowed her head still lower upon het
hands, in speechless confirmation. A
stricken, helpless, cowering child she
seemed to me, standing there in her
drenched clothing. An unutterable ten
derness. altogether different from the fe
verish passion of a few minutes ago, filled
my heart as I looked at her.
“Come.” I said, as calmly as I could
speak, “I am at any rate ycuryloctor, and I
am bound to take care of you. You must
not stay here wet and cold. Let us make
haste back to Tardif’s. Olivia.”
I drew her band down from her face and
through n.v arm, for we hid still to re
enter the outer care, and to return through
a higher gallery. I efere we con and reach the
cliffs above. Id and not glance at her. The
road was very r ugh, strewn with huge
bowlders, and ; he was compelled to receive
my help. But we did u. t speak again till
we were o:i the cliffs, in the eye of day,
unh our fares and our steps turned toward
’J'ardifs farm.
“Oh!” she cried, suddenly, in a tone that
made my heart a :he the keener, “how sor
ry I am!”
“ Sorry that I love you?" I asked, feeling
that my love was growing every moment in
spite of myself. The snn shone on her
face, which was just below my eyes. There
was an expression of sad perplexity and
questioning upon it, which kept away every
other sign of emotion. She lifted her eyes
to me frankly, and no flush of color came
over her pale cheeks.
Neither dii Olivia speak a word or utter
a cry. We found ourselves in a low tun- I
nel, where the water was beginning to flow
pretty strongly. I set her down for an in
stant. aud took off my coat and waistcoat.
Th n I caught her up again, and strode
along over the slippery, slimy masses of
ro:-k which lay under my feet, covered with
seaweed.
“Olivia,” I said, “I must have my right
hand free to steady myself with. Put both
your arms round my neck, and cling to me
so. Don’t touch my arms or shoulders.”
Yet the clinging of her arms about my
neck, and her cheek close to mine, almost
unnerved me. 1 held her fast with my left
arm, and steadied myself with my right. !
We gained in a minute or two the mouth of
the tunnel. Tne drift was pouring into it
with a force almost too great for me, bur
dened as I was. But there was the pause
of the tide, when the waves rushed out
again in white floods, leaving the water
comparatively shadow. There were still
six or eight yards to traverse before wo
could reach an archway in the cliffs, which
would land us in safety in the outer caves.
Across this small space the tide came in
strongly, beating against the foot of tho
rocks, and rebounding with great force.
There was some peri l , but we had no al
ternative. I lifted Olivia a little higher
against my shoulder, for her long serge
dress wrapped dangerously around us
both: and then, waiting for the purse in
the throbbing of the tide, I dashed hastily
across.
One swirl of the water coiled about us,
washing up nearly to my throat, and giving
me almost a choking sensation of dread;
but before a second could swoop down
upon us 1 bad staggered, half-blinded, to
the arch, and put down Olivia in the small,
secure cave within it. She had not spoken
once, Hhe did not seem to be able to
speak now. Her laige, terrified eyes looked
up at me dumbly, and her face was white
to the lips. I clasped her in my arms once
more, and kissed her forehead and lips
again and again, in a paroxysm of passion
ate love and gladness.
f To be Continued.’)
A New Scheme for Beating the Tailor.
He went into the store of one of the
most fashionable tailors in Chestnut
street an arrayed himself in an expensive
summer suit. Then he said:
‘•I will pay you by check, but as you
do not know me I will not ask you take
one of my own. Y’ou are acquainted,
of course, with the gentleman who keeps
the drug store on the corner? Let us go
in there. He is a friend of mine and is
preparing a check for me.”
In the drug store the stranger called
out familiarly to the proprietor, who was
behind the screen; ‘-Doctor, is that ,
ready?”
“In a moment,” was ihe reply.
Thensa T d the stranger to the tailor;
“I must go across the street and see that
it is all right.”
In a little while the tailor was handed
a bottle.
“What is this?” he aked.
“Your cough mixture.”
“I don’t want a cough mixture. 1
want a check.”
“I know nothing about a check.”
Then it came out that the stranger had
ordered at the drug store a cough mix
ture for his dear friend Mr. , the
tailor, who was suffering from a severe
cold. The doctor knew nothing about
his enterprising visitor, and he has not
returned to inquire if the tailor is better.
—Detroit Free Press.
Flattering Prospects.
A Dakota farmer recently called at the
officer of the local paper.
“How are crops looking out in yout J
neighborhood?” asked the editor.
“Poor, very poor.”
“What’s the matter with the wheat?”
“Oh, fust it wasdry weather and then
it was too wet, and the other day a hail
storm hit it. I don’t count on more’n a
quarter of a crop.”
“How are other things?”
“Purty poor. Flax ain't doin’ much,
the frost took all the corn, and the bugs
have 'bout et up the portaters.”
“Well, that is b id—l am very sorry to
hear it.”
The farmer went out and the editor
grasped a pencil and wrote-:
“We received a pleasant call from
Farmer Snoozenberry, of Wayback town
ship, Wednesday afternoon, who dropped
in to renew his subscription. Mr. S.
brought very flattering reports of the
crops and was particularly enthusiastic
about the wheat, which, he says, is
actually booming. He remarked that he
would not be afraid to guarantee every
man in his township at least thii ty bushels ;
to the acre. We would challenge any
other section of the Territory to make as
good a showing as this. He was very
earnest in what he said on the subject,
and communicated his enthusiasm to
every one. With only about half a crop
in the other wheat-growing countries
and a European war virtually assured,
we certainly have great cause for rejoic
ing.”—Estelline Beil.
Careful of His Engine.
The special agent of an Eastern insur
ance company was in the city to-d ly and
was giving some anecdotes of experi
ences in various parts of Pennsylvania.
“I was in Tamaqua not long ago,”
said the agent, “and 1 was told that the
town had anew fire engine, and had pro
vided a first-class team and all the essen
tials of a good department. The local
insurance men congratulated themselves
on the arrival of the machine ar,d on the
prompt service it would render in the
future. They asked me to go and see
the engine, and I went. Just as we
went to the doer of the engine hous •
there was an alarm of lire. We found
the horses hitched and the men stand
ing around. The engineer didn't see n
to be in a hurry to get out, and a'ter a
few minutes 1 said: "Wasn't that an
alarm of fire?’ ‘I guess it was,’ said the
engineer. ‘Why don’t you gat out,
then?’ ‘Get out with this engine! Why,
I spent three hou:s cleaning it up and
shining the brass yesterday, and you
don t suppose I’m such a blame fool as to
take it out in all thi 3 mud, do you?”'—
Piitsburj Chronicle Despatch.
The South’s Progress.
In its semi-annual review of the indus
trial growth of the South the Baltimore
Manufacturers' Record of July 10 shows
that there has been great industrial activ
ity in that section since January 1, 1886.
The list of new enterprises organized
sine:' then includes thirty ice factories,
forty foundries and machine shops, one
Bessemer steel and rail mill, eight mis
cellaneous iron works, three stove foun
dries, fifteen gas works, seventeen elec
tric light companies, seven agricultural
implement factories, seventy mining and
quarrying enterprises, eleven carriage and
wagon factories, eight cotton mills, eigh
teen furniture factories, fittecn wagon
works, twenty-nine tobacco factories,
forty-eight flour mills and two hundred
and forty-eight lumber mills. The
amount of capital and capital stock rep
resented by the list of new enterprises,
the enlargement of old plants and the re
building of mills after being burned, foi
the first six months of 1886. was $63,-
618,200 being $27,000,000 more than the
amount invested during the same period
in 1885.
A. B. FARQUHAR & CO’S.
AJAX ENGINE ON CORNISH BOILER!
10,12,14, 20 AND 25 HORSE POWER!
The strongest, safest, most durable, efficient and
reliable Engine made. Prices lower than any other
First-class Engine. For sale by
A. B. FARQUHAR & CO.,
MACON, GEORGIA.
tfjiSMjFie scraps.
arc' stp show that over
i'7.' ‘‘ffb V ,pGf* .cent, yvf mad dogs are re
trievers,' animals so-called, and that
mongrels are much more liable to hydro
phobia than dogs of pure breed.
It is computed that a twelve-inch wall
of hard-burned bricks and good lime
and sand mortar eould be built 1600 feet
high before the bottom layers would be
crushed. If Portland cement were added
to the mortar the height might reach
2700 feet.
A comparative statement of the death
rate in England and Wales in the two
decennials periods 1871-1880 and 1861-
1870 has just been published, and shows
a decrease of 1100 deaths a year in each
million inhabitants. The deaths from
diphtheria and fevers supposed to be
due to unhealthy surroundings were
greatly reduced in number.
The Paris Fijaro has published an ar
ticle on tfie “manufacture of skeletons,”
in which the writer says that just outside
of Paris there is an establishment where
human bones of all sorts are collected,
and after being carefully prepared are
fastened together with wires, and when
the work is done it is impossible even for
the scientific eye to detect anything
wrong in a skeleton that lias been made
up from the bones of several different in
dividuals.
Perhaps no more striking illustration
of the wonderful reproductive powers of
certain insects could be given than that
contained in anew work by Mr. Theo
dore Wood, an English entomologist. It
is assumed, first, that 100 aphides weigh
no more collectively than a single grain;
and secondly, that only a very stout man
can weigh as much as 2,000,000 grains.
Then it is found that if multiplication
were entirely unchecked, the tenth brood
alone of the descendants of a single aphis
would be equivalent in point of actual
matter to more than 500,000,000 very
stout men, or one-third of the human
population of the globe supposing each
person to weigh 280 pounds.
He was Hungry Too.
A lean young man, with a brown over
coat and slouch hat, has been haunting
uptown hotels for several weeks, work
ing on the sympathy of guests by the
pathetic look with which he presents to
their gaze a piece of paper on which is
generally written, “I am hungry.” The
young fellow is thought to be deaf and
dumb, but he is known to have picked
up such considerable sums of money as
to be out of want, and the fact that he
still hangs around Madison Square has
led many of those who contributed to his
relief to believe him an imposter. About
6 o’clock last night, Jones, who is a
heavy capitalist from the West, came
rushing along Twenty-third-st. from the
elevated station. Jones is one of the
hotel guests who has contributed liberal
ly once or twice to the pocket of the deaf
and dumb man. As he was hastening to
his hotel, not having eaten a bit since
morning, he was suddenly confronted by
this same cadaverous young man, who
thrusted a piece of paper in his hand.
Jones, not noticing who it was, and
thinking it a message of some kind, look
ed at it and read:
“I am hungry."
He looked up and Lis eye met the st -re
of the mute. Jones took in the situa
tion. lie stopped, took out his pencil
and deliberately wrote on the paper un
derneath the above inscription;
“So am I.”
He gravely handed it back to the beg
gar and shot into the side door of his
hotel like a bullet. The beggar was ar
rested by the police later and several
dollars were found in his possession. He
had made his hunger a profitable calling.
—New York Tribune.
In the south of England this spring
large numbers of returning song birds
have been frozen to death.
W. T. MAYNARD & SONS,
DEALERS IN
Groceries, Provision?;
And Family Supplis!
And Agents for the Celebrated
Tenessee Wagons!
AND THE
Winship COTTON GIN and Condenser!
Also some of the
BEST COOK STOVES.
FORSYTH, GEORGIA.
IF OIR,
FINE JOB PRINTING
GO TO THE
Advertiser Office!
ESTABLISHED 40 YEARS.
G. H. OSBORN & WALCOTT,
Manufacturers of the Celebrated
OSBORN BUGGY 1
PHOTONS,
WAGONS, ETC.
Also carry on a General Bepair Shop. Our Painting and Finishing the best arm
in the latest style, plain or fancy. Everything guaranteed first-class. We prop os#
to sell our vehicles as lew in price as can be had any place. We furnish to respon
sible parties on time. Call and get terms. We respectfully invite you to call an 4
sec our vehicles 1/ you don’t find what you want, will build it to order. Wehav#
PLANING MILL
Also, and Bracket Sawing, Scroii Work and Balusters, and any Fancy Turning j#
Wood. Come and see us before buying. °
C. H. OSBORN,
J NO. W. WALCOTT.
ffetT Salesman, JOHN F DICKERSON, Griffin, Ga.
CLOTHING AND HATS!
WINSHIP & CALLAWAY,
126 Second Street, - - MACON, GA.
For nearly Thirty Years the Leaders of the
Clothing Trade of Middle Georgia!
they return thanks to their many friends in Monroe county and pledge
renewed exertions to please them the present Season. &
They have now in store their splendid
SPRING AND SUMMER STOCK!
A great portion of it MADE EXPRESSLY FOR THEM They carry a
large stock of BOYS and CHILDREN’S CLOTHING Give us a call.
We will make the Lowest Prices. WINSHIP & CALLAWAY •